THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 109 



returned I ; " for I began to think, from what 

 I heard, there was nothing so likely to insure 

 the praise of the field as having one's head in 

 the air and flying like a bird." 



" Nor is there," added Trimbush. " But 

 who cares for the praise of a set of fools? 

 I'd rather have one * Yo — o ' from our 

 master, or a * Hark to Trimbush, have at 

 him, hark,' from Will Sykes, than all the 

 yells and whoops from the greatest mob that 

 ever met by a cx)ver-side. ' ' 



''That's true," said I. "There's no 

 pleasure to be had from their cheer." 



'* Only last season," continued my friend, 

 " some fellow who was dressed as if he knew 

 better, absolutely cheered a second-season 

 hound babbling the moment he was in cover. 

 ' Softly, softly,' hallooed Will, cracking his 

 whip. ' Why, it's a challenge,' said the 

 gentleman in pink. * Yes, sir, ' replied Will, 

 * such a challenge that will cause him to have 

 a hempen cord put round his throat to-morrow 

 morning. We've put up with his noise long 

 enough, and longer than the Squire would 

 have done had I obeyed his orders strictly." 



" And was he hung! " inquired I, feeling 

 a cold shiver run through my veins. 



